


The Price of Freedom

by SheWhoHasNoName



Series: The Price of Freedom [1]
Category: Darkfell, Fightfell, Underfell - Fandom, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Asgore isn't that big of an arse anymore, Don't get mad at me, Human Monster hybrids, It's a mixture, It's gonna get sad up in here, It's not truly Underfell, Multi, My OC wants to die sometimes, Papyrus is still obsessed with pasta, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sans is a butthead, Slavery is a thing in this too, Struggles with depression and anxiety, Struggles with self worth, Temmie needs to be kicked through a field goal, There is foul language, They're all edgy and angry and violent, Underfell Asgore Dreemurr, Underfell Flowey (Undertale), Underfell Grillby (Undertale), Underfell Mettaton (Undertale), Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale), Underfell Temmie - Freeform, Underfell Undyne, Underfell W. D. Gaster, Underfell on the surface, W.D is a reformed murderer who likes flowers, underfell alphys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-08-19 12:10:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20209522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheWhoHasNoName/pseuds/SheWhoHasNoName
Summary: Arcadia, the main protagonist, is struggling with her inner demon known as Mara. Mara wishes to take control and let loose her bloodlust but Arcadia doesn't fall for any of her tricks, she's known that Mara has been bad news ever since they met years ago. The true struggle the girl faces is revealed in this chapter and the problems she has seeing herself as anything other than worthless.





	1. Enemy Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arcadia, the main protagonist, is struggling with her inner demon known as Mara. Mara wishes to take control and let loose her bloodlust but Arcadia doesn't fall for any of her tricks, she's known that Mara has been bad news ever since they met years ago. The true struggle the girl faces is revealed in this chapter and the problems she has seeing herself as anything other than worthless.

Chapter One: The Enemy Within

_“How long are you going to let this drag on, hm? I can feel that you’re getting pretty damn sick of these games they’re playing. The lies they weave to make the truths you seek unreachable, it boils your blood but you don’t speak a word of defiance. You simply sit there and take it, like some sort of helpless child waiting for someone to do all the fighting for them. It that’s the case, let me do it, let me be the one to free you from your endless darkness.”_ When Mara speaks, the words flow forth dripping with deadly venom and true disdain. It was like staring into a mirror for Arcadia, though, not everything about Mara was the same. First, Mara’s hair was the same beautiful red but it fell far past her waist and it looked highly unkempt. Second, her eyes were bottomless pits, as black as night and devoid of all light, like looking into the eyes of a true hellish demon. Third, her figure was much thinner, shown by the only piece of clothing she wore. It was a black T-shirt that was far too big for her, hanging off her as if it was a dress, showing just how skinny she was, though it did cover all her extremities from view. Her skin was also much paler, as if she hadn’t been fed properly or taken out into the sun for a very long time. Finally, the red marks that looked like paint under Arcadia’s eyes and in the middle of her cheeks weren’t there on Mara, _“I honestly don’t understand you, the way you stay silent when atrocities are being committed around you and you do nothing to stop them. You’re a disgrace to your own kind, standing by while those around you are being killed for sport. Merely for some entertainment that will never satisfy the masses.”_

“No one person can change the way a whole nation feels, especially if that person is a race no one sees value in.” Arcadia’s voice was quiet, almost nonexistent, casting her gaze away from the dark eyed girl. She feared that if she continued to stare back, somehow, her soul would be ripped right out of her, so she instead set her sights down onto the polished white marble floor below. Arcadia was terrified of her, mostly because she knew what that demon was capable of doing even without having a tangible body outside of this place. That just meant that she couldn’t hurt the ones on the outside but she could most certainly hurt Arcadia if she truly wished too. It didn’t help that the aura radiating from Mara was slimy and thick, another indicator that she was nothing other than evil, which made it difficult to be anywhere near her. It felt like Arcadia’s lungs were filled with tar, slowly suffocating her. Mara’s intentions were just as dark as her presence too and far more dangerous than Arcadia had originally thought when she was a child, “You already know my answer. I’m grateful to you, you’ve kept me alive inside the Temple but that’s it. You’ll go after them too if I don’t have a ho-“

"_You’re so annoying, droning on and on about the family you ‘love’ so much, when all you feel is anger and resentment towards every one of them. You aren’t even related by blood, do you truly think that they give a damn about you? You pretend that nothing bothers you, sit there like the good girl they want you to be while that mad bastard does whatever he damn well pleases behind the scenes. You don’t even know what he’s thinking, he’s never around to explain the tests he runs on you or even comfort you when the pain is too great.”_ Mara spat, forcing Arcadia’s gaze back to her, finding that Mara’d face was now twisted in rage. The once bright white room was now plunged into eternal darkness with the start of Mara’s raging, surrounding them both in the cold vastness of nothingness. Arcadia’s veins began to fill with ice water, her abnormally pretty icy blue eyes widening._ “That lumbering ofe is the only one who stays with you constantly, ‘protects’ you from the dwarf and whoever else dare look at you the wrong way, but you have to know he’s doing it because it’s an order. He keeps tabs on you and gives you whatever you want in order to make sure you stay complacent.”_

“Don’t you dare talk about Papyrus as if he’s some kind of mindless puppet, he’s nothing like that! He wouldn’t do that sort of thing just because he was told to, my brother cares about me! You can’t cloud my mind with those thoughts, I won’t have any of it.” Her outburst came out of nowhere, surprising both herself and Mara. Mara’s face falters for a moment, genuine shock still slapped on her face as Arcadia decides to continue with a hard swallow, “Family makesyou feel a lot of things: sadness, happiness, joy, pride, anger, disappointment and most importantly love. We don’t have to be the same race and we don’t have to come from the same blood to feel those kinds of emotions. You wouldn’t know that though, you believe that negative emotions are the key to pushing me over the edge but you’re wrong.” Confidence built inside as she explained her feelings to her demon, but watching Mara once again become furious chipped away at it ever so slightly.

_"So, you’d choose Monsters over your own kind? Even after they slaughter them like cattle and steal their souls? No, not even take their souls. They throw them out like garbage because they believe them to be unnatural and tainted.”_ It grew colder with every word spoken from Mara, darker and darker with every second that passed. Arcadia planted her feet firmly even though she was trembling, _“I truly hope that one day you will see the bloodshed your precious Monsters have caused, how much blood stains your own hands because of them. I find it funny that you defy the only person who wants what’s best for you.”_

“I will choose my family, like I always do, over someone that wishes only for the destruction of all others. You can preach about wanting to free the humans, but our connection is a two way street. Those intentions aren’t true, nor were they ever. You hate everyone, every single soul on this planet.” Arcadia dares to glare, getting a low growl in response but nothing more for the time being. This was always the outcome of their meetings, other than the fact that normally Arcadia wasn’t so voiceterious or defensive. She usually just stood there in this dead space, taking the violent assault until her counterpart decided she’d leave but today was different. “You’re just like those humans before the barrier shattered, hellbent on revenge and filled with so much corrupted hate, its turned your heart cold and black. That’s the difference between you and I, I won’t let those emotions take over me.” Arcadia spoke slowly, wanting to drive what she was saying deep into the other’s head, “The mistreatment of Monsters sowed seeds of bitterness into their souls and drove them to become what they are now. To be treated as though they were the villians and then becoming just that, isn’t it ironic? That’s what caused this mess in the first place, isn’t it?”

_"You believe that loving hard enough will solve all your problems? That having a good heart will somehow save you in the end? That being nice to others will change something?”_ Mara moved far too fast for Arcadia to defend herself, all she could do was merely watch in horror as she took the eight or so steps towards her in three long strides. Once close enough, her arm lifted and right hand got thrown forward. Her fingers wrapped around Arcadia’s throat, squeezing tightly until the air no longer filled her lungs. In response, Arcadia helplessly reached up with both hands, one trying to pry Mara’s hand away and the other reaching for her collar, mostly so she looked like she was trying to defend herself. The hand that clutched Mara’s collar was shaking violently, giving her yet another reason to give a murderous smile and a wicked laugh. Why wasn’t it working? _“You’re just as stupid as the rest of your trashy ‘family’, you lot are all a joke. Having a good heart only makes you weak and susceptible in this world. Here it's kill or be killed, no more and no less. I could snap your neck right now an-”_ Just as Arcadia thought that Mara might actually go through with it her body suddenly began to spasm uncontrollably, as if she was having a seizure. When her grip finally loosened and Arcadia was able to free herself, she took a few steps back as Mara continued to have her moment. Absentmindedly, Arcadia’s hand cupped the back of her head and thanked the Angel silently for the invention.

“You can’t hurt me here.” Her throat felt like it’d been wrapped up by a constrictor, the feeling of a bruise blooming evident under the skin. Mara finally ceased her convulsions and gasped for air, almost falling to her knees but somehow managed to stay upright. Sweat beaded at all parts of her face, a tired look taking over the murderous one. She merely glared at Arcadia, unable to do much else. “Your true colors show when your patience runs thin, you proved me right by lashing out as you did. You’re willing to kill me to get what you want, you have no right to speak ill of others who do the same thing. I will do what I believe is right, we might share the same head space but you will never have a say in anything that I do, no amount of whispering vial thoughts or scrounging up dirt on me will change that. You don’t control me and you most certainly don’t control my choices.”

This place, be it filled with blinding white light or drown in endless waves of darkness, was the only place that she had to herself. On the worst of days, she would find a quiet spot to meditate in the house and slip into this secluded sanctuary so she could be totally alone with her thoughts; no distractions of any kind...just silence. She was allowed to let out her truest and rawest feelings without any judgement or guilt and she loved it. Regrettably, there had been moments where she’d been so wrapped up in her rants to notice that Mara had gotten loose and was listening to every word. Arcadia knew Mara couldn’t do anything more than throw it into her face later on or try to play on episodes long since past. She wasn’t able to tell anyone else about the things that had been said, no one would ever hear the awful things that had been blurted from her mouth in fits of rage and the hopeless depressive states she’d fallen into. She didn’t have to hide her suffering.  
“The only good thing that came from that damned thing that bastard planted in you is that it cancels out unwanted power exchanges and it protects you from inside and outside damage. You’re a lucky girl to have something like that at your fingertips. You only stay out for a limited amount of time and then regain consciousness, would be a shame if it suddenly stopped working and you never woke up again.” Mara’s dark eyes shifted into something not human, they grew into nothing more than black gaping holes in her face as if someone had taken a drill to her eye sockets. Her mouth became a goopy mess, dripping down her chin while somehow keeping its sinister smiling shape.

“Your threats are empty.” Arcadia shot back at her, her hands clenched into fists at her sides with her knuckles turning ghostly white. This wasn’t from being scared anymore, it was that she felt her anger spike for the first time in a long time, when Mara had talked badly of Papyrus it lit the fuse of her temper and then now that she was threatening to take her out here, in her own sanctuary, she couldn’t help but let it show. Mara shouldn’ be able to push her around like she owns her, not like those monsters that look at her as though she’s some freak. She was in control, she should be the one who isn’t afraid of anything. Mara could have just let Arcadia die in the Temple a long time ago but she wouldn’t, to be able to take over her body they both had to be present in this place. if Arcadia died outside of this place...she’d die for real and so would Mara. “I’m not afraid of you.”

_“Oh but you are, you’re shaking like a leaf and that pathetic look in your eye is simply irritating. Without me, you’d be long dead by now and you find it appropriate to repay me by defying me.”_ Mara spat again, small droplets of black ooze flying in all directions as she did so. It made Arcadia’s skin crawl, the thought of that stuff touching her made her want to take a scorching hot shower and scrub at her skin for hours, _“You truly are a wretched girl.”_

“I didn’t ask for you to be shoved inside my head and I didn’t ask for your help. I wish I didn't have to continue living this life, can’t you feel that?!” Arcadia snapped, tears filling her eyes as she glared once more with a sob building in the back of her throat. She’d never asked to be saved in the first place and she definitely wasn’t asking to be saved now, “Having to accept that I’ve killed countless people without remembering any of it rips me apart inside. You may have done it but their blood is on my hands...not yours. I’m the one forced to look at the aftermath in the mirror, day in and day out, and see the wounds and bruises made by those who fought against us. I’m the one who has to see how desperately they wanted to live but every time we manage to overpower them all and I’m left to deal with the sorrow.” The sob inevitably escaped after her outburst ended, tears overflowing and falling heavily down her face. Arcadia lifts the back of her hand to her eyes and furiously wiping at her eyes. Confusion once again took over the mess of a face Mara possessed.

"_You spoke about being grateful before, is that the lie or is this?_” She asks, cocking her head to the side almost so unnaturally that the thought of her snapping her own neck came into Arcadia’s mind the moment she witnessed it through her tears._ “Are you that numb to your own pain? Are you trying to convince yourself? You’re getting everything you feel all jumbled up in that damn soul of yours.”_ She looked really confused, as though she was finally thrust into the tangled web of feelings Arcadia had hidden from even her.

“Living in this place, one filled with bloodshed and hatred is nothing to be grateful for. I fear for my life everyday, being someone who is a mix between Monster and Human I have a bigger target on my back than even Humans. I am an abomination. I have no worth.” Arcadia answers, taking her hand from her face after the tears had dried up. The look of emptiness and pain clear on her face as she continues, “I’m grateful for my family, for your protection and for the life inside that house but anything outside of those things is awful. I can’t be myself in public, in the presence of company or in the Temple. This oppression that binds us all breaks my spirit little by little, having no rights at all has driven me to darkness more than once, being hated for being who you are...is the worst feeling in the world. How do you see worth in yourself when no one else sees it either?”

_“You’re pathetic, you know that?”_ Gradually, her form shifts back into its original state along with the room returning to its brilliant white color. She sighs heavily and closes her eyes, placing her hands on her hips, _“You need to stop throwing a pity party for yourself anytime anyone looks upon you with disgust. Who cares what those fools think? If it bothers you so much, let me kill them. If not, then stand up for yourself.”_ For a split second, Mara sounded genuine, her expression annoyed but also showing understanding. She was the only person who knew Arcadia’s true feelings, the only one who understood how much pain she was in. Arcadia dropped her hands to her sides and shook her head, she couldn’t possibly truly understand. Mara simply hated others while Arcadia wanted to love all others, they were polar opposites and their ways of fixing things were at different extremes.

“I won’t do either of those things.” She speaks softly, keeping her gaze elsewhere. Mara shrugged before turning on her heels, walking towards an endless side of the space. There was nothing else in the room except for their two bodies, “I’ll just deal with it.”

"_Then don’t complain, I don’t want to hear it.”_ Mara replies, waving her hand without turning around in a goodbye gesture, _“Make sure you tell your family I say hi, I bet they would love to hear it.”_ She laughs wickedly, swiftly whirling around on the ball of her feet while swinging her arm around to where Arcadia was standing. Arcadia watched as the knife left Mara’s hand, coming straight at her face with incredible speed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever posted fanfiction, I hope that you guys like it. This fanfiction is about my AU Darkfell, where Frisk fell to Asgore in the Pacifist run and is now gone. Arcadia takes up the reigns in this, telling about the life humans and hybrids have on the surface after the barrier was shattered. It isn't that long but I tried my best to make it as interesting as possible, so please if you have comments for the next chapter, please leave me some down below. Thank you so much for reading and I hope to see you again next chapter! If you would like to see the designs of Sans, Papyrus and Arcadia go to my Tumblr! I will have them posted for all to see ^^ My username is homicidaldorito.


	2. What It Is To Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arcadia is thrust back into the waking world, feeling a little less than stellar she must face her problems outside of her safe space. To think it couldn't get any worse, she is met by a very angry older brother who is upset about a particular activity not being completed on a very special day...a heart to heart and a show of love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me awhile to get Papyrus' personality down but I think you guys will like him! Happy reading and let me know if you have any questions or comments!

Song inspiration: Hurts to be Human - Khalid & P!nk

Chapter Two: What It Is To Be

-Arcadia’s POV-

Arcadia was thrust back into the unforgiving realm known as reality, the one place Arcadia would rather not be. Fleeing her own head space from a force that shouldn’t have been able to hurt her, yet still threatened to do so anyway, didn’t seem fair in the slightest to her. She dare not go back however, fearing that Mara would use that knife for something other than throwing. What rotten luck she was having today, huh? Normally, leaving the space was easy and didn’t cause her any harm. It simply felt as though she was swimming through a fast moving stream of water, with little to no trouble at all, but since she’d left in a hurry to avoid becoming a pincushion, her return was a little more violent than normal. It was like she’d slammed her body against a brick wall, solid and unforgiving then pulled through a cheese grater mercilessly. To say the least, it hurt A lot.

Physically, she wouldn’t feel the pain when she slipped back into waking consciousness. That was the worst part of this ordeal. Instead, she would feel it in her head and deep within her soul, similar to the aching of a broken heart or being emotionally and mentally drained. There was a possibility that this ache wouldn’t go away for a few hours, this meant that she would just have to ignore it the best she could until it faded. No amount of painkillers or ice packs could heal what had been done, but at least this way she would be too tired to feel much of anything. 

Her body jolted forward, her brain aware enough in that moment to instinctively throw her hands forward and down with a loud crack, keeping her from bashing her head against the wood floor. She had almost done just that, a few seconds later and she would probably have more than just a headache. She stared at what seemed to be the floor in blind shock, realizing that her forehead was touching the cool surface, her breathing heavy and rapid. Today could have been worse, she could have cracked her skull open just now, that’s something to be thankful for, right? She stayed bent over herself like that for a few minutes, sitting on her legs, pressing her forehead fully against the floor so that it could chill the feverish skin there. 

Gradually, her senses came back to her; one by one, little by little. Her sense of touch was, obviously, the first to meet her. She’d been able to feel the coolness of the floor against her forehead and under her legs from the very moment she awoke. Following close behind was her hearing, she’d been able to hear the crack of her hands against the wood but it had been muffled as if it had happened under deep dense water. Seconds after that particular sound left her ears, a soft melody flowed gently into the void it had left behind. It came back to her that she’d placed earbuds in before meditating, thankfully she let the words and tempo of this particular song ease her racing soul back to normal. Even though her eyes had been open the whole time, she saw nothing but black before but now she was able to tell that she was no longer just starting into nothingness, now it was just plain ‘ole dark. Her sense of smell and taste were the last ones to join, coming in hand in hand as always, the taste of bile overpowered everything else in her mouth but she tried to focus on the smell that filled her nostrils. It was something...something familiar.

She decided to sit up after the floor lost its cool touch and the pain in her head wasn’t going to make her pass out. Sitting back carefully and folding her hands in her lap, she set her icy blue gaze onto the window in front of her. Outside of it, the moon hung high in the sky, pouring its beautiful soft gray light upon the earth and all who inhabited it. It seeped into her room as if it was liquid silver, covering everything it could in its gorgeous glow. She loved the moon dearly, finding comfort in its gentle rays and the way it was able to keep out the darkness even though it was surrounded by it. She wanted to be like the moon, a beacon of light and comfort. Maybe someday she could, she hoped. She regretfully tore her gaze from the moon to look around her, sometimes after returning so suddenly she forgot the placement of things and always made a habit of making sure to familiarize herself once again. 

The comfortably sized room was filled with furniture and decorated with paintings she’d either made or received. She didn’t want to repaint the walls any other color than white, fearing that one day a piece’s colors would clash with the wall’s color...so white it stayed. Her bed was directly behind her, a sloppily made queen with a big gray comforter that she had tossed together that morning when she’d been forced out of bed by her brother but still made nonetheless. There were two short dark wooden nightstands on each side of her bed that held framed pictures, though there were only three pictures in total. A large desk sat adjacent to the bed, shoved into the corner of the room where it couldn’t get in the way of everything else. It was covered in books, scraps of paper, pencils, pencil shavings and notebooks. 

The books consisted of high school course books along with some simple comics, ones that had been read over and over again. She hadn’t even bothered with her homework today, she’d been too distracted to think clearly. Three bookshelves sat side by side on the opposite wall of the desk, filled with the same kinds of books as the desk...but mostly comics. Those little gems helped her take her mind off of everything and even pushed her to want to create her own. The closet was the last space in her room, the door was shut tight but she knew that was where her dresser was located.

She looked over her shoulder at the bed once more, feeling that something was…off about it. Her eyes hadn’t adjusted fully with how dim the lighting was but after a few minutes of looking around it had kicked in her limited night vision. Once her head was turned enough to get the view and she stared through the darkness she found, hovering over the bed, a set of bright red lights were beaming straight at her. 

-Papyrus’ POV-

He’d only meant to stay for a little while. When she hadn’t come down at the designated time, he proceeded to storm up the stairs loudly to see where she was and see why she was late to their lesson, it was spaghetti night and she was late! He was known for his temper, though most days he had it very much under control but on sacred days such as this one...it couldn’t be contained. When he’d flung open the door to her room violently, a sharp crack ringing through the room most likely due to Papyrus breaking the lock, the door hit the wall and rattled. He didn’t even care about the door, he opened his mouth to say something but when he found her sitting on the floor with headphones in and her eyes closed, drown in the moonlight that dripped in from the window above her. He instantly closed his sharp toothed mouth.

His demeanor shifted from anger to curiosity as he decided to step carefully and quietly towards her to see what she was doing. When he reached her back his step ceased and he bent down over her carefully, looking at her face upside down, with red eye lights narrowed. He may have had the reverse image of her face but anyway that he could have looked at her she would still look as relaxed and tranquil as she did now. She almost appeared to be asleep, maybe even dead from how little she moved or breathed. He stayed like this for awhile, taking in everything about her for some strange reason. He never got to see her like this anymore, she always either had a fake smile slapped on her face or a submissive look in her eyes whenever someone asked something of her. 

Her red hair was slightly waved and smelled like her shampoo, sweet but not overpowering meaning that she’d showered earlier that day. That silly bandage was carefully placed over the bridge of her nose like normal, covering who knows what. Her face was slender and pale, almost as pale as the bones that made up Papyrus’ body, the red marks seemingly painted on her cheeks and under her eyes stood out vibrantly. The ones on her cheeks looked as if they were crimson teardrops, frozen in place forever while the ones under her eyes looked like small pools of red paint that had been delicately poured and left to dry. Her clothing consisted of the cropped black long sleeved jacket she adored (she seemed to have discarded the red shirt that was always underneath it), a pair of black shorts, no socks or shoes and no metal collar or cuffs. It was unlike her to want to show off her midriff...though he suspected she would have changed before coming downstairs. She most likely didn’t think that he could come barging into her room like he had, not very logical on her part. 

“Arcadia, what are you doing? It is spaghetti night and you are incredibly late!” Papyrus demanded with his deep gravely voice, watching her face closely, she didn’t stir nor did she reply. She simply continued to stay in her strange state of meditation, completely oblivious to the world around her. Papyrus huffed and his irritation returned, a scowl spreading over his bone face somehow, “I am giving you to the count of three to wake up, I am not playing games with you tonight.” He really didn’t want to have to treat her like a child right now, he would much rather be having a good time with her downstairs. She had told him that she was going to meditate but she also promised to be downstairs on time...this could have been avoided if she would have done so. “One...two...two and a half...two and three quarters…” With ever count, his anger became more than he could contain. 

He, regretfully, reached one of his bony hands down and took the fleshiest part of her cheek in between his thumb and pointer finger, pulling on it rather...roughly. He was already holding back so much strength then, whenever he gets angry it tended to run rampant and he...hurt people he didn’t want to and she was the last person he wanted to injure over something so silly. She did budge then but it was only by grabbing his wrist and ripping his fingers from her face, her eyes didn’t open and her face stayed blank. Papyrus’ eye sockets blinked, strange when he had no eyelids, thinking that she had actually woken up.

“Arcadia?” He asks just as she drops his wrist and returns her hand to its previous place, silence fills the room once more and the skeleton lets out a frustrated sigh. He straightens up and rubs the back of his skull with his hand, what was he supposed to do if she wouldn’t wake up? Wait for her to come around? There was no use in him starting the cooking by himself, he wanted her to be the first to try his new recipe but she couldn’t do that if she was goofing off. He sits down heavily onto her bed, placing his hands on his knees as he looks down at her once again, wondering how long he would have to spend here by himself and what he could do to pass the time. 

He was sitting on something hard, even without skin he could feel the hard object against his pelvis and see that his vision was somehow lopsided and uneven. He took his gaze from her and looked down towards his backside, finding a small but thick red sketchbook under him. He leans to the opposite side and slides the book out from under him, bringing it closer and holding it up to his face so that he could see exactly what it was. His eye lights lit up the cover in an eerie red glow, a title scratched deep into the leathery cover confirmed his earlier guess. The title read Derp Doodles. If Papyrus could scrunch up his nose, he would have. His sister was a very silly girl, coming up with names to things that he couldn’t even comprehend...though hearing them from him always made him chuckle. 

He opens the sketchbook and begins thumbing through the pages carefully, taking in everything inside of it. The book was half full and the pages were turning a slight yellowish color instead of staying that blinding white, it didn’t look that bad if he was being honest. With every page he passed, the angry fire that had once been spreading inside of him started to lose the fuel to stay lit...he was far too interested in her doodles to focus on feeding it. The first few inserts were very sloppy and child like, as if she had just started drawing but with every page he turned past they became more and more defined in small ways until the drawings looked like a professional had produced them. He went through that little book three separate times to make sure that he had truly seen each and every one of her drawings, pride welling up deep inside of his soul. She hadn’t given up, even though there were small notes of frustrations scrawled on some of the pages she never gave up on getting better. That was by far her best quality. 

He looks up from the book to find that she was now looking at him from over her shoulder with a frightened expression on her face, he hadn’t even heard her wake up! He opens his sharp toothed mouth to say something when he was cut off by a loud scream and then a shoe being tossed right at his face. The damn thing hit him right square in the nose, causing pain to bloom heavily there. Even without skin, somehow his body made up for it by having nerves burying deep within his bones’ structure...not something that ever went in his favor. Papyrus dropped the book onto the floor and covered his nose with one hand, shouting out in pain as Arcadia scrambles to her feet with another shoe in her hand.

“What was that for?!” He asks her, anger sparking back to life as he glared at the much smaller girl standing in front of him with that damn shoe clutched in her hand like some kind of weapon. She blinks and lowers the show, tilting her head to the side in question.

“Papyrus? What the f-heck are you doing in here?!” She almost let it slip, she almost let herself cuss in front of the one person who hated it the most. Papyrus’ brow bone began to twitch and he took his hand away from his face, pointing at her with an accusatory finger.

“Of course it’s me! Who else would it be?!” He shouts yet again, causing Arcadia to flinch back and drop the show entirely. She had never reacted like this before, he had sat in her room plenty of times before while waiting for her to come out of her stasis and she hadn’t thrown a shoe at his face. Though, she had been the one to let him in but still! So why was she doing it now? Had he really frightened her with his presence? “You’re lucky you didn’t finish that sentence, I would have taken you downstairs and washed your mouth out with soap, young lady! You do not get to speak like some kind of heathen, we have talked about this before, haven’t we?”

“The door was locked, how did you get i-” Arcadia started when her eyes slid over to the door and found that the whole side of the frame had been ripped off the wall. Her eyes were wide with disbelief and surprise, “You kicked the door open?!“

“I pulled it open, I did not kick it!” He huffed at her accusation, he would never kick a door down unless need be. There was only one other time that he had accidentally rammed into a door and shattered it, that was only because that damn dog got in the way and sent him tumbling down the stairs at full speed. The door should have moved.

“Papyrus, that’s not okay!” She looked like she was going to cry...what a silly reason to shed tears. If it couldn’t keep him out then there was no need for that particular door, he would get her a better one.

“Neither is the condition of your door but here we are.” He says under his breath, receiving a glare in return.

“PAPY.” She practically growls at him, she was being uncharacteristically hostile tonight...weird.

“I will fix the door, stop shouting at me! The Great and Terrible Papyrus doesn’t appreciate your tone!” He exclaims dramatically. 

“And I don’t appreciate you kicking down my goddamn door!”

“Again, I didn’t kick it down! I pulled it forcefully and it couldn’t take a small amount of my strength, if anything its the doors fault.” He shrugs like it truly wasn’t that big of a deal, Arcadia stares at him with her own brow twitching.

“Why are you like this?! This is why we can’t have nice things!” Arcadia hit her hand against her face, Papyrus believed that it was called a face palm, leaving it there as she closed her eyes grumbling under her breath. 

Papyrus would let her innocent cursing slip since he had just murdered her door frame and figured pointing it out would make the situation that much worse. He got to his feet and walked the few steps towards her, placing his hand on her head carefully. She winced slightly under his touch and took her hand from her face, looking up at him...the look of frustration not as bad as he had thought...there was pain hiding within her expression as well.

“Are you alright?” He asks and she nodded gingerly, reaching up to place her hand atop of his. He thought that she would have taken his hand off but she just kept them there together...her hand trembling quite terribly, her gaze fell to the floor quickly but not fast enough because he had seen what was filling those beautiful eyes of hers. She really was going to cry over her door, wasn’t she? “I’m sorry about the door, Arca. I will fix it! I was just angry because you hadn’t shown up to assist me, you know how I get on spaghetti night. The Great and Terrible Papyrus needs his assistant in the kitchen, not for help, of course but for constant cheering and taste testing!” 

“It’s fine, Papy...I’m fine.” Her voice was so soft now, like the squeaking of a tiny mouse. Her strange behavior disappeared right when he had laid his hand on her, she was back to the same sweet, well behaved girl she always was, “I’m sorry I’m late, what time is it?” She asked, daring not let her eyes leave the floor.

“9:30.” He answers, concern now plastered onto his bony face. Had the door really upset her that much? If it wasn’t the door, then what was it? She needed to talk to him so he could fix the problem, he wanted her to stop shedding tears! “What’s wrong? You need to talk to me.”

“I’m fine Papy, really. I just have a headache, I almost knocked my head against the floor.” She admitted, her voice sounding much louder but also forced and unsteady. When had she done that? He didn’t even notice...made it was when he was flipping through pages?

“Just now?” He asks and she simply nods, bringing the back of her hands to her eyes to wipe the tears away with her sleeves. Papyrus let his hand slide from her head and caught ahold of one of her hands, holding it in his own while moving his free one to her face. He cupped her chin and forced her face up before she could even wipe away her tears. She shuts her eyes apparently not wanting him to see them or something along those lines, grabbing his wrist with her free hand but doesn’t pull it away yet, “How did you manage that?” He was looking for any sign of bruising but couldn’t find any, she did say ‘almost’.

“I jolted awake, I had enough time to brace myself. I’m really fine!” She speaks nervously, refusing to open her eyes for him and was now pulling on his wrist but it wouldn’t budge. This was getting ridiculous. Papyrus sighs heavily and bends toward her, pressing his mouth against her forehead...she was burning up and covered in sweat, “Let’s just go downstairs so we can start dinner, papa and Sans will be coming home soon.”

“You have a fever, you are certainly not okay.” He scolds her, but he had a feeling that her headache and fever weren’t the things bothering her. He had learned from a very young age that Arcadia could take physical pain well, she took it better than he ever could but when it came to things that left injuries on the inside...she was the weakest though he couldn’t blame her. She had such a soft soul, “I have known you for almost 18 years, I know when something is bothering you. This headache and fever aren’t the only things clouding your thoughts.” He spoke sharply, causing her eyes to slowly open to look at him. Just as he had suspected, there was something else wrong

“Papy, pleas-” Before she could even finish her sentence, Papyrus swiftly but carefully turned her around, looping his arm around her midsection as he dragged her backwards with him. He sat back down on the bed and pulled her into his lap, keeping her there with his arm. If she couldn’t face him, she didn’t have too but she would talk to him...she wouldn’t have a choice on that one.

“Tell me what’s wrong or we won’t be getting up at all.” He said, feeling how tense and nervous she was acting...she was caught completely off guard by his actions. He wasn’t one for physical things except for when it came to Arcadia, he knew that sometimes she needed a physical connection to feel safe so he pushed himself past his comfort zone and happily gave it up for her needs. There was nothing but silence for almost ten minutes, she hadn’t even relaxed against him throughout that time.

“Do you...do you really care about me, Papyrus?” Her question was so quiet that he barely heard it, it was like a soft breeze. Papyrus blinked at the question, what kind of question was that anyway? He had dealt with it before, knowing that anxiety was one of the biggest problems she faced but he didn’t think that he would have to explain it again so soon. “You don’t do it...just because papa tells you to, right?” Another quiet question...what was happening inside of that head of hers?

“What kind of question is that, Arcadia? I thought you knew the answer to that already.” He says, keeping the slight irritation he felt out of his voice. When she had come out with this question the first time, it had hurt Papyrus because he had thought he had done a good job at projecting his feelings outwardly. He spoke out of anger then, that had been the first time he ever made her cry...it made him feel not so great, “Do you not trust my words? My actions?”

“I-I do! It’s just...nevermind.” Arcadia finally slumped back against him and covered her eyes with her hands, her mouth turning into a quivering frown. She was barely holding it together and he knew it...was he really going to push her further? 

“Then what is it? You don’t have to hide anything from me, you know that. I’m here to listen to your woes, Arca. I may not have ears but if I did, they would be all yours.” He tries to lighten the mood, only receiving a small sobbing laugh in return to his joke. He loops his other arm around her middle, squeezing gently to give her some reassurance.

“I don’t...I don’t know why you care so much about a half breed like me.” Hearing those words coming from her mouth was like being stabbed straight through the soul.

Arcadia’s POV

Those words came out as bitterly as they would have if Sans would have said them himself. She had been called that very ugly name since she was twelve years old...and she never forgot it either. She didn’t want to talk to Papyrus about any of this, she hadn’t planned on it either but her mind and her soul were weakened...barely able to keep themselves together at this point. She just wanted him to tell her the truth or at least something believable so that it would dislodge all the words of hatred that were bouncing around inside her skull.

She had pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, trying to keep herself from crying again...why did it have to hurt so much? Why did the words Mara spoke have to hurt so goddamn much? Why did she let her do this to her in the first place? Why was she so weak?

“Don’t ever call yourself that again, Arcadia.” His voice was hard and obviously furious, his grip on her middle loosened and his hands grabbed her wrists. He yanked her hands away from her eyes and when she looks back at him, his red eyes are glowing so brightly that it illuminated his bony face. He really was furious...that expression made him look absolutely terrifying and the moment she laid eyes on him her soul dropped into her stomach...she had screwed up big time, “Do you hear me?” He growls at her, making her want to slide down in between his legs and scramble under the bed.

“Y-Yes.” She whimpered, fear filling her and causing tears to spring to her eyes once more. She was getting tired of being bullied by the people around her...though Papyrus wasn’t trying to be mean to her and she knew that. This Papyrus was much different than the one that Arcadia watched walk down the streets of the Chambers, his head held high and that truly terrifying scowl always slapped on his face. Or the one who fought valiantly in the Temple, leaving that disgusting place wearing the blood of his opponents with pride. This was the Papyrus she’s come to know and love, but due to how the world was working nowadays, he couldn’t be this Pap all the time. He acted so cold and ruthless most days, she had even began to think that this side of him was his real self when she was younger but gradually, over time, she was able to tell truth from lie. She knew that he only wanted what was best for her but at the moment, she felt it was better that she be alone.

“You are not a ‘half breed’, you are a living being. It doesn’t matter what you are, you could be a fucking unicorn for all I care. I would still love and care for you as I do now.” She was stunned, he actually cussed...and right in front of her too! She stayed silent as he stared down at her hard, but with every second that passed his expression softened. Finally, after what seemed like a never ending staring contest, he sighed and pulled her hands down with his own, He laid the back of his hands on her outer thigh, loosening his grip but not enough for her to escape, “You shouldn’t let the things people say around you affect you this much, words are words.” She wanted to argue with him, tell him that he didn’t have a clue how it felt because his race wasn’t enslaved and treated like nothing but garbage but...they had been.

“I know.” Was all she could reply with, she was already too tired to fight anymore...she just wanted this conversation to be over with, “I’m sorry, Papyrus.”

“Do you remember the story I used to tell you?” He asked out of the blue, though she didn’t bother looking up at him this time. She knew exactly the one he was talking about. She nodded and he places his chin on the crown of her head, wrapping his arms around her middle once again, “I, the Great Papyrus, looked straight at that pink potato looking human baby and the first thing that came to my mind was if I could pass my greatness down onto her. Would she be able to contain such a large amount of...cool.” Papyrus struggles finding a ridiculous word to use but figured it would do, “When I found out that the baby was sickly and very weak, barely clinging to life, I was devastated. I was already set on teaching her everything I knew! I had a whole notebook filled with notes on everything I could think of! The greatest teacher needed the best student, after all! We never knew if she would make it to the next day, fearing that she’d lose the will to fight over time. We were all surprised when she kept waking up every single day, showing us the strength she was gaining with the nurturing and love we surrounded her with. Father had already raised two children by that time but never a human child, he was at a loss but never gave up...even though some days that’s all he wanted to do.” He seemed to be fond of this story, she heard no anger in his voice...only fond remembrance.

“Why didn’t they just give up on her? If she wasn’t sure to make it for sure, then why put time and effort into her?” Arcadia asked softly. She wanted to know if his answer would change, just to see if he was consistent.

“I remember how small you were compared to me, how fragile and helpless you appeared to be but strength wasn’t in the form of physical properties then, it was in the strength of your soul and your will to live.” He tells her, “Everyone deserves a chance at life, no one deserves to be robbed of it. We wanted to give you the best chances, even if it meant sacrificing some of our own. Not one of us regrets that, I promise you that.”

She leans forward, turning herself around after managing to slip her wrists out from his grasp finally, wrapping her arms around his bony neck and buried her face into his clean white Nice Guy sweatshirt. She wasn’t surprised to see him wearing it, it was his favorite one after all. It smelled just like his cologne with a hint of marinara sauce...a strange combination but it was able to start calming her down. He kept his arms around her, pulling her close to him to make sure she felt safe 

“Papy.” Her voice was muffled but he would be able to hear her just finer. She waited for him to say something in return but when he didn’t, she took it as he was already listening. She took his sweatshirt into her hands and squeezed, trying to find the strength to speak her mind freely for a final time. Papyrus rubbed small circles into her back for comfort, “I can’t...I can’t pretend not to hate who I am. If I...if I was a monster...a true one, people wouldn’t look at me like I was some sort of freak, right? If I was someone else, I would be accepted.” Her voice was barely a whisper, straining to hold itself together. 

“I think that is quite enough.” A new voice spoke up, being followed by a bone chilling cold that swept through the space. This day couldn’t get any worse, could it?


	3. When Echo Flowers Speak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arcadia comes face to face with her father, the man known famously as the Royal Scientist W.D Gaster. The man has a few...issues to say the least but one of his biggest fears is losing his daughter. A father’s love is one of the strongest things in the universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me just start off with a thank you to all that have been keeping up with the story so far ^^ Also, Gaster is extremely hard to write as with his brain so jumbled up and his mood swings being so..swingy. I hope you enjoy! Please leave a comment if you have any questions or thoughts! They’re always appreciated.
> 
> Happy birthday, Corinne!

_ Song Inspiration: In The Name Of Love - Martin Garrix & Bebe Rexha _

  
  


Chapter 3: When Echo Flowers Speak

-W.D’s POV-

The way she clung onto Papyrus, having buried her pretty little face deep into his sweatshirt as if she thought she could escape within it and tried to speak her mind reminded him so much of  _ her _ .  _ She _ hadn’t been able to do such things unless  _ she  _ was around W.D, but even then  _ she  _ still held  _ her  _ tongue due to the fear. If  _ she _ had even thought about doing such a thing in front of anyone else, it would only end in a bloody nose, a bruised face, broken bones or a black eye the very moment she decided to open  _ her  _ mouth. He hated seeing  _ her  _ beautiful face so broken and discolored, he wished he could have done more. He wished that he could have healed more than just her body...he would have given anything to have done more for  _ her _ . He’d gotten caught up in his memories and slight jealousy to notice Arcadia had since taken her face away from the sweatshirt, staring at him with blushing cheeks he figured was from embarrassment and fear clear in those icy blue eyes of hers. What was there to fear?

He hated that she spoke so ill of herself, he didn’t want to hear such foul words come from such a sweet girl, especially when it was about herself. He’d tried his damndest to raise her with loving words and unending encouragement, never wanting to see the day where she looked upon herself with disgust...never wanted to think about her falling into a place that no one could reach her. Papyrus had been the biggest help, since being around her the most helped build a strong bond between the two, she was inclined to listen to him more than anyone else. Sans, on the other hand, had been helping up until a few years ago. Now he was the exact opposite...adding to the already overflowing outpouring of hateful comments and snide remarks whenever he could just to spite his father. Another thing that he didn’t want her to do was disrespect the woman she came from, they were both identically beautiful souls stuck in a very disgusting world that’s motto was kill or be killed. He believed that one day his fear would come to fruition, that the hatred and corrupted ways of this world would swallow his little girl whole and cause her to view herself as nothing more than worthless garbage. It made him sick to his stomach, the fear of failure hitting him deep within his soul.

“What on earth are you two doing in here? Why is this door damaged?” He’d since turned on the light, having done it the moment the shortcut had opened up and spit him out just in the doorway of his daughter’s room. Nowadays, he had trouble finding the spot he wanted to travel to, his brain was never silent and never had a clear view of what he desired...it took time and it frustrated him. The scars on his face didn’t match the severity of the scars on his brain, but they forever reminded him of what he’d done and what the price had been for it. To him, it was well worth it, “You weren’t roughhousing again, were you? I’ve told you time and time again that you are too old to be playing such childish games.”

“Papa...please don’t be mad. Papyrus panicked and broke the door open because it was locked. I was listening to music and didn’t hear him.” She spoke so quietly, he had to strain himself to hear her clearly. She looked away from him as he raised a bone brow, expecting her to continue. Papyrus simply kept his eyes glued to the small red haired girl, struggling against himself to not answer for her...W.D could see the tension in his jaw, “I know I’m not supposed to have the door locked but I just...I wanted to be alone for awhile. I just...needed some quiet time to myself.” She explains even quieter, as if she’d lost the voice she had a few minutes previously. She was a very timid child, one who obeyed without question most days but it seemed like today was one of her few off days.

“To do what, exactly? Stew in those horrible thoughts?” He spoke sharply, making her wince but not look at him. He’d been correct then, she’d planned to sit here all night and tell herself more poisonous lies and soak herself in them...he couldn’t have that. He WOULDN’T allow such a thing to happen under his watch. She would not fall to those heathens and destroy everything he had built up in her. Not today, not ever, “Come with me, we need to have a talk, it seems.” He spoke but before she could open her mouth to comply Papyrus tried to cut in.

“Father, she has a-” He barely got the sentence out before a sharp glare from W.D and a hand raising shut his mouth, figuring that he was going to try defending his sister’s actions. With that, Papyrus and Arcadia share a look for a split second, Papyrus only giving a slight nod to their silent conversation. Arcadia reluctantly pulled her arms from around Papyrus’ neck, just as he was unwrapping his arms from her middle, letting her go so that she could slide off his lap and onto the floor. Her bare feet barely made a sound as she padded her way over to W.D, hugging herself to cover her midsection from view. Was that why her cheeks were so red? 

“You may change, I’m not going to drag you around wearing only that if you aren’t comfortable. Please do hurry though, my dear. Your father has important work to finish and not much time to do it.” He tells her gently, bending down just enough to comfortably cup her cheek in his large gloved hand. She nods without saying a word, keeping eye contact with the tall skeleton for a few seconds. She truly did look like  _ her _ , everytime he looked at Arcadia it brought back so many things...so many feelings that he had thought slipped from his grasp. He never wanted to lose the memories he had with  _ her  _ and he would protect the one person who could continue to bring them back to him. He could have stared at Arcadia all day long and not get tired of it. 

He looked rather creepy doing it was the only real problem.

Snapping out of his thoughts yet again, he pulled his hand away slowly, leaving her scrambling to find her red long sleeve turtleneck without uttering a single word. She was tense...very tense. W.D turned his gaze towards his son once more, noticing that Papyrus hadn’t even budged, he’d simply averted his eyes as Arcadia changed. The strange thing was, to W.D, it was like he was looking at his son for the first time in years, somehow looking at him made him forget what he was angry about in the first place. When had Papyrus gotten so tall? When did he get that scar across his eye? When did he start looking so angry? As his thoughts ran wild, he absentmindedly reached up to his own face, pushing his round glasses up a bit to touch his own scars. Papyrus was starting to look like his old man. 

Papyrus slid his eyes over quickly, missing any sight of Arcadia, to look at his father. His face was stone, unreadable and far too serious...he used to smile all the time...what happened to that? Where had that chipper little boy he remembered so well go off too? Would he ever come back?

“Are you alright?” Papyrus asked, his voice was so much more different than he remembered too. W.D refocused on him, merely giving him a small apologetic smile while letting his hand fall back to his side once more. He cursed himself, he hated how scattered his brain and thoughts had become and how easily he was to forget things. It always made him feel like a second rate father whenever his memory failed him, he’d seen his precious children wrecked by his inability to recall certain things. The children understood, or so he hoped, that he never forgot on purpose and tried his hardest to keep track of everything going on but...it was getting very difficult, especially since it was nearing  _ that _ day.

“Quite alright, just a little frazzled. You’re doing well to take care of your sister but I do hope you will fix the door for me.” W.D spoke, irritation vanished and replaced with that fatherly gentleness. With a simple eager nod from Papyrus he began to think about what he had just said. What was he frazzled about? Before he could dive deeper, his attention was drawn to the slight tug of his sleeve, finding the small girl staring up at him with her fingers holding onto the fabric weakly, she spoke no words...just simply stared. She looked as though she was back in infancy, she used to try sending her thoughts into the minds of those she stared at but there were no such things as mind readers. She was such a silly child, “What is it, child?”

“We were...gonna talk, remember?” She practically whispers to him, concern creeping into her her blue eyes...why was that? His mind went blank for the umptenth time that conversation, were they supposed too? About what? When had he said such a th- 

“Right, right.” It slipped his mind for only a second, coming back to him when he thought of what was waiting for her in the backyard. He gently plucked her hand from his shirt, holding it tenderly within his own before leading her out the door with the creak of the bed signaled that Papyrus would be following close behind. “I have a special place that we can go, I’ve just had it finished.” It had taken several weeks of careful planning and extensive research to create a place that would work for such a world as this one...he had given it his all and he was hoping that it would bring her spirits up just a little...just enough to keep her from falling into the darkness he so desperately tried to keep out with the only light he had.

**Determination.**

  
  


-Arcadia’s POV-

The thing about their father was that he had a few...screws loose. She had been fearful of him before because she knew of his explosive temper and his slipping grip on his sanity. There were times he was sound minded, well rested and had no problems with his thoughts getting jumbled whatsoever but then there were times he spaced out for long periods of time, forget things the instant they happened and became angry over nothing. There were days they couldn’t get him out of bed or make him eat a meal, those were the toughest of days. The boys had dealt with his outburst more than Arcadia had, the moment he started on her he would snap out of his rage and ask her what was happening...she never knew how to respond. How would it be possible to tell someone they were losing their mind without them becoming defensive and angry? It wasn’t. 

The upper floor of the house held the kids’ rooms, Sans’ was at the end of the hall, Arcadia’s was in the middle and Papyrus’ was nearest the stairs. This was set up to keep Arcadia safe, because of the paranoia W.D had of someone breaking in to hurt her, being who she was, he placed her in the middle so that either of the boys could hear if something happened. Papyrus was nearest the stairs because he was much faster than Sans and would actually do something about it rather than let it happen. If Papyrus was involved, Sans would follow to keep his little brother safe. Stepping out into the hall, Arcadia could see that Sans wasn’t home due to his weird light not leak out from under the door. That was a relief, at least. If he had been home and he had heard what was going on, he’d make her life a living hell. 

The white walls held nothing, for good reason, the only noticeable things were the scratches that were carved deep into the plaster and the few small holes and one large scattered around...suspiciously dog head shaped. About 15 steps away from her door they reached the black metal spiral staircase that led downstairs directly to the kitchen. The railing to the stairs was smooth on the top but had small vine like extensions curling freely about on the bottom, no two bones looked the same and they looked so realistic except for their color being completely black. She remembered riding down the railing when she was little, finding it faster and much more fun to go down that way. Papyrus had always insisted on getting down the stairs first, this was to make sure if she got shot off the end he would be there to catch her and make sure she didn’t accidentally crash into something.

With her father’s hand still wrapped around hers tightly, they descended them slowly W.Dleading and Arcadia following with Papyrus just behind her, likely to keep any of them from falling down a half flight of stairs. The cold metal against her bare feet caused little shivers to go down her spine, it happened every time she took a step down. She should have put shoes on. It made her wish she was still bent over herself with her forehead pressed against the floor, maybe she wouldn’t have to feel so sick. She might not have felt so hot but didn’t dare bring it up right now, fearing it would spark her father’s anger. She just had to hold on for a little while longer.

Once they reached the bottom, the mess that awaited them had Papyrus written all over it. It was a decent sized kitchen that he had put together himself after becoming the second commanding officer in the Royal Guard, he’d insisted on having an adequate station to prepare their meals. Normally gleaming and spotless the kitchen today looked as if a spaghetti tornado had ravaged the entirety of the space with a handful of pasta noodles being thrown on the floor carelessly, another handful spilled on the counter, marinara sauce splashed on the wall and a wheel of parmesan cheese had been stuffed into a pot on the stove lucky it hadn’t been turned on. Arcadia glances back at Papyrus, finding that he had a it’s-not-my-fault-I-was-left-alone look on his face with his arms crossed over his chest while a light blush brightened his bony cheeks. She guessed he really couldn’t handle cooking without her, it lightened the negative feelings on her soul just a little bit knowing that she was needed some place.

“Come, the place I wish to take you is just right outside.” W.D pulled her forward from their small stand still, he didn’t seem too concerned with the mess. He must have known that Papyrus would clean it up after he was finished, Papyrus ALWAYS cleaned up after himself but that couldn’t be said about Sans. Anyways, she knew that the garden was just through the backdoor, though she didn’t understand why they would be heading back there at this time of night...it was a very unsafe time to be strolling around in the dark without any sort of weapon to defend oneself with. It was like asking to be murdered in a bed of tulips. She figured he’d forgotten that she’d been out there already. 

Before they were even halfway through the kitchen, the sound of a very large creature came closer and closer rang out of the living room then the dining...the sound of claws tapping against the floor reminded Arcadia of a handful of tap dancers dancing their way across a stage in an empty room. She somehow managed to get her hand free of her father’s as she heard it, turning just to see a large white mass turning the corner. It barely managed to keep itself upright as it whipped itself around, its massive paws skidding slightly against the marble floor but caught onto whatever it could to keep momentum. This beast was massive, like a gigantic wolf with deep scars, a missing eye, a torn ear and even a pierced one… the look on its face was anything but friendly. It’s lips were drawn up in a snarl and it’s one eye clearly showed the thirst of blood or maybe something else. Anyone would have pissed their pants right then and there seeing such a creature barrel towards them like a bullet from a gun. Except for Arcadia. 

“Doomie boy!” She called out to him, throwing her arms out which could have ended badly if she had been any sicker, the gesture made her slightly dizzy but nevertheless a big smile spread across her face as the beast sprinted the rest of the distance between them. Within that time, his form began to deflate and shrink...until he was the size of a Pomeranian. He leaped into her arms and yipped at her, the snarl had vanished and the thirst in his eye was obviously for affection. She hugged him tightly, pressing her face against his and giggled as he licked her face wildly, “I was wondering where you were, I thought you would have come upstairs when you heard the door break...to busy napping?” She asked him teasingly, getting a short growl from him. Doomfanger, or Doomie, was the family guard dog, he had a tendency to fall into a deep slumber especially whenever he used too much magic. 

Technically, normal dogs shouldn’t be able to use magic, but for some reason Doomfanger was able too...no one really knew why or if they did, they never told her. His magic allowed him to shift forms, pour the power he gains from it into the very fabric of his body to make him bigger and stronger. He couldn’t get bigger than a Cacausian Shepherd or smaller than a Pomeranian. With his growth came advancements in his physical form as well: sharper teeth, sharper claws, more muscle and more power behind his attacks. He was the ideal guard dog, one that could easily lull an intruder into a sense of security and then rip them apart like a chew toy. Which he did. Often. The chew toy not people.

“Arcadia.” Her name came off sharp, she winced and looked back at W.D who had his hands folded behind his back and an impatient look upon his skinless face. She always wondered how he and the boys were able to make such faces if they had no flesh. She’d touched their faces many times before, they weren’t as hard as she would have thought but there was no way that they could possibly show emotion without any muscle...though they were Monster and not Humans. The laws of their bodies didn’t work the same as Humans.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, the smile leaving her face as she turned back around to resume following him. She felt better with the dog in her arms but she could feel herself getting weaker and weaker by the minute. How long would she have to keep this up? W.D unfolded his hands and grabbed ahold of the door knob, twisting it and pushed on the door. He stepped out and held the door open for her, using his hand to gesture her out. With one last glance over her shoulder, she saw Papyrus leaning against the fridge with his arms crossed and a blank look on his face. He gave her another small nod and removed a needleless syringe from under his arm he had hidden there while she and W.D had been distracted. She wasn’t looking forward to having that shoved down her throat when she returned.

She took a single step outside and nearly dropped the dog from shock… the sight was simply breathtaking and she honestly thought that it was the fever talking. The garden hadn’t been anything special for years, it had been filled with echo flowers but they had been scattered across the large yard and looked rather withered and untended. It made her sad because she loved echo flowers, she always loved how they glowed dimly in the darkness, lighting the way for she and Papyrus so that they could return to the house when it got too dark for them to see. She’d wanted to do more with it but she couldn’t be outside by herself with the neighbors that they had, if they saw her unattended, they wouldn’t have given her a warm greeting and a friendly handshake. They would have done unimaginable things to her that she dare not even think about.

Now...now there was an extraordinary greenhouse that held a large field of echo flowers and various other kinds of flowers within its safe boundaries. They weren’t even inside yet and she could tell all of this just by looking through the glass door. There were tall thick hedges surrounding the entirety of the greenhouse on the outside, acting as an impenetrable blind, leaving only the ceiling open to get the proper sunlight in for the flowers. Before she could fully enter the greenhouse, W.D cleared his throat and set down her shoes. Arcadia tore her gaze from the greenhouse to the shoes, standing there dumbly staring at them for a minute before getting a small chuckle from her father.

“You put them on your feet, my dear.” He teases lightly, causing her cheeks to become even hotter. He was supposed to be the forgetful one, not her. As she carefully sat down, she started to release Doomfanger from her hold when suddenly W.D got onto one knee in front of her and grabbed one of the shoes. She didn’t say anything, merely watched him as he untied it, took her heel into his hand, slipped it on before tying it back up again securely. She wanted to tell him that she was capable of putting them on herself but at that point there was no use in trying to argue and with the way she felt there would have been no way she could have managed it. She was far too tired. He repeated the process once more, starting to get back on his feet but before that, he wrapped his hand around her upper arm and pulled her up with him. He did this with the utmost care, “Are they correct?” He asks, releasing her when she found her balance. She gives him a nod and with that he turns, heading to the greenhouse door. He presses his finger against a small panel on the side, within a few seconds the whole panel turned green and the door slid to the right, opening up for them to enter.

“Papa.” She says, forcing her voice above a whisper now as she tried to think of what she wanted to say to him. He halfway turns towards her with a full smile on his face, making her soul do a little flip inside her chest. He looked so tired, so worn out and...lost. Arcadia always wanted to ask him what had happened to him, what was hurting him so badly, “Did you do this...for me?” 

“I remembered that you stated you loved the garden, wanted to start taking proper care of it but with your...situation it would be difficult to do such a thing, yes?” He starts, reaching out to place his hand on her back. He gently pushed her through the door, entering himself after she cleared it so that the door could close once again. He stood behind her, moving his hands to her shoulders as he continued to smile, “I wanted to reward you for keeping up with your studies, your chores and bearing with the madness in the Temple. This will be added onto you chores though, it must be done now that I’ve given you the opportunity.”

“It will! I promise!” Arcadia couldn’t hold back the sob that had built up as he talked, this place was like a beautiful sanctuary...it was like her head space but real. She wouldn’t have to slip into that place if she had this one, she wouldn’t have to listen to Mara’s constant bullying. She could be alone in a place within the real world. It was so quiet, the only sound coming from their breathing and the soft buzzing of bees traveling from flower to flower. The moonlight was able to reach into this place too, drenching everything in touched, “Thank you.” She bows her head, pressing her face into Doomfanger’s fluffy head, tears seeking through her tightly shut eyes. She always seemed to cry whenever anyone wanted to do something for her, as though she felt she didn’t deserve it.

  
  


-W.D’s POV-

“You’ve been a weeping mess for almost an hour now, what has you all out of sorts?” He asked her, feeling her shoulders shake under his hands. He’d noticed the whites of her eyes had been slightly red when they’d been in her room, telling him she’d been crying in there too. Arcadia didn’t respond, merely pushed her face into Doomfanger’s fur and muffled the sound of her already soft sobs. Why did she have to cry so often? The boys didn’t cry at all, they hadn’t for a long time but Arcadia was different. She had a tendency to cry whenever something minuscule occurred, he had believed that she would’ve grown out of it by now but apparently that wasn’t the case. Maybe it was the part of her soul that he didn’t understand, what made it so hard to find the right way to raise her.

“I just...I don’t know.” Arcadia’s voice was muffled by thick fur, her arms slightly tightening around the little body it covered. Doomfanger rested his head into the crook of her neck, looking up at W.D with his one eye. She knew what she wanted to say, she had demonstrated it just before he had cut her off but now she’d lost the courage to say anything at all. Unlike Papyrus he would force her through it, he wouldn’t let this continue any longer.

“You do, but you fear something will happen if you say it.” He corrects her, “What is it that you think will happen if speak your mind?”

“Never speak in anger, what you say can never be taken back. Even if you don’t mean it.” Arcadia sounded as if she’d recited this saying over and over, day after day, the way a robot would after running continuous calculations just to get the same result every time, “I can’t say it out loud because it can never be unheard. I don’t...I don’t want to hurt anyone.” 

“But you’ll allow others to hurt you?” He asked sharply, the wick to his temper shortening.

“They aren’t the ones that I want to talk about!” Arcadia cries out loudly, causing Doomfanger to bury himself deeper into the crook of her neck, most likely trying to keep her calm. He’d remembered when Doomfanger wouldn’t even go near Arcadia, he would simply growl and snap at her when she got too close to him. He had considered getting rid of him but one day, in the middle of the night while Arcadia was laid up sick in bed, he crawled into bed with her and kept her company...he didn’t know what changed that blasted dogs mind but he was glad it happened. Papyrus would have been upset to learn that his loyal pet and partner had been shipped off to who knows where and with all the work he had put into Doomfanger, he would have preferred that he stuck around. So, it was about the family? What could have they possibly done to her? “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“If it’s about this family, you WILL talk about it.” W.D had already had enough with this, it shouldn’t be this hard to get what he wanted out of a child. His fuse was already shortening by the minute, growing closer and closer to exploding the longer this dragged on. He wished that his relationship with her was just as strong as the one she and Papyrus shared, it would have made this a lot smoother for both of them. That had been his fault, in the end. He’d put his work before his children, thrown them to the wolves after what had happened, leaving them to fend for themselves while he laid in bed for days on end being a poor excuse for a father.

“I don’t want to.” She says again, trying to take a step away from him only to be kept in place by his hands but with that Arcadia released Doomfanger. As the dog fell, his form expanded into the biggest of his forms and startled W.D so badly that he released his hold. He threw himself in between the two, though when he made eye contact with W.D he didn’t look vicious or ready to attack, he simply looked like he wanted to keep the peace. She stumbled forward, turning towards him with a tear stained face and another annoyingly fearful look in her eye for the millionth time that night. How could she be afraid of someone who had given her everything, kept her safe and cared for her like a real father? Or did she not see him that way? What if...what if she saw him as the absent father, the one that tossed his children aside for a mere meaningless title? “I’m okay...I am so don’t worry about m-.”

“Do not act like you are afraid of me!” W.D’s voice boomed, bouncing off the glass walls like ricocheting bullets. The fear within him got the best of him, lashing out at her as if she were his insecurities manifested. Arcadia’s eyes widened and she visibly swallowed down a lump in her throat...Doomfanger was now growling lowly at W.D as if he had any right to, they were all pissing him off. Why did they all have to treat him like he was some kind of monster, “I am your FATHER, there is no reason for you to look at me like I will steal your soul! Haven’t I given you enough for you to understand that I am not like them?!” His anger exploded outwards, the words coming out like shots themselves. The girl shrunk back into herself but she couldn’t look away from him, “I have given you all that you need to live a comfortable life, what is it that I cannot give you?”

“You can't give me my freedom, Wing Ding” She screams at him with her eyes now closed, taking the hem of her shirt into her hands. She hadn’t called him Papa like she normally did, she’d used his name...she’d...did she not remember who he was to her? W.D stared at her completely overtaken by the shock, unable to speak, “You couldn’t possibly understand how I feel because you aren’t me! You could never be me!” Tears fall down her cheeks and her knuckles turn white from how hard she was gripping the shirt. 

“But I do understand! We Monsters were locked away underground for a very long time, no hope of escape in sight We were looked at as nothing more than creatures who would devour anything with a soul! Some fairytale villains.” Gaster’s anger turned into desperation as he held his hands out, palm facing upward. He wanted her to call him Papa again, to erase what he had just heard from his ears...she couldn’t forget him that easily could she? He was such a pitiful man, one wrong word would send him spiraling, back into the hollow shell of a monster just wishing for someone to appreciate him. To appreciate what he was trying to do. “I understand how you fe-”

“It’s not the same thing! You had rights, you had your freedom and you had hope!” She was still yelling, her voice cracking with the emotions that had built up within her. He just wanted...to be the one she confided in for once, wanted her to know that she could talk to him without getting upset but...it had been the exact opposite. He had let his anger get the better of him once again, ruining any chance of him earning her trust. Again. “We have none of that, we don’t have a King that will save us one day! We don’t have a right to live! We are nothing more than play things! All because of the Humans before us, all because they figured they were the ‘superior’ race that could bully Monsters. Look how that turned out! It’s nothing against you or the other two, it isn’t your guys fault for the way things are now. I’m just...not happy living in an  _ enclosure  _ only to be taken out whenever someone wants to see bloodshed and death...to be treated like garbage whenever someone lay eyes on me. I feel like a damn bait dog!”

“Arcadia.” His voice was so broken, it didn’t even sound like his own to him. He couldn’t blame her for feeling the way she did, he knew he couldn’t, it was true and he couldn't deny it. His poor girl was nothing more than a tool, one that he was forced to use so barbarically and he could do nothing about it. If she didn’t fight, if she didn’t make an appearance at least one every two weeks, they would ‘recall’ her and take her away...to where he didn’t know. If they found out that the Royal Scientist was a Forsaken Lover, he and the boys would receive more than just death threats. Their situations were much different, so much so that it was an insult to compare the two. It had been hard in the underground but nothing like it was up here for the Forsaken Children. The Monsters chose their lifestyle of violence, merely to pass the time in the underground but they shouldn’t have forced it upon Humans or Forsaken. They had made the choice for everyone just because they were angry and full of hatred. They could never forgive what had been done.

“Just let me be sad! Let me sit in my room by myself for a few hours without anyone bothering me so I can keep my head on straight, please...just let me have that much at least. I know you’re worried but I’m not going to do anything...I’m not going to let anything happen to myself.” She slowly released her shirt and opened her eyes, raising them to meet his, she looked just as tired as he felt and he face was really red. They stood there for a long time before he sighs heavily, he couldn’t argue with her any longer. He gestures for her to come to him with a single finger.

“You cannot sit in your room alone, that I cannot allow.” He starts, watching as she started to protest, “But I can allow you to stay in this place by yourself, it’s safe and no one will be able to get in unless you let them in.” She seemed okay with this because she shooed Doomfanger out of her way so she could come to stand next to her father, raising an eyebrow at him. W.D reached his hand out to flick one of the nearest flowers, a strangely familiar voice coming from it. 

_ “I don’t think I have cleaned up so much human waste in my life, how do they even function with so much coming out of them! This is ridiculous and the smell is horrendous! I don’t even have a stomach but I have never wished to vomit so badly in my life!”  _ It sounded like a very young W.D Gaster, one who hadn’t been subjected to the very basic processes of childcare. From his side, a giggle started up and then was replaced with a whole hearted laugh. He glances over at Arcadia, who had her hand covering her mouth but that big smile still showing through it. He flicked another, knowing exactly which ones had the funniest recordings on them.This particular flower had been in the house but he had decided to add it to the others when the garden was being reevaluated. 

_ “Child! Put some damn clothes on! You can’t run around in nothing! If you fall, you'll get whatever the hell rug burn is!...DON'T GET ON THE DOG!”  _

“I’m sorry for my outburst earlier, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m also sorry that I cannot do more for you, I wish that I could change this world to make it a safer place for you.” W.D started, keeping his eyes on the echo flower on the right of the one he had just hit. He knew what was on this one...it would be effective for this conversation. He went ahead and flicked it, yet another recording of a younger him coming on.

_ “I don’t know how long I can keep doing this, how long I can keep protecting this child from this world. She is safe within these walls, the only thing I can provide for her but outside of them, the other Monsters want her blood to be split to repay the Humans debt and to cleanse the atrocities they believe to be the Forsaken. I am not strong enough, physically or mentallly, to care for something so helpless and small. The boys were different, they weren’t had to handle and were self sustaining at a very young age but she...she’s very sick and cannot do anything on her own.”  _ There was a long pause and then a shaky breath,  _ “I cannot give up, I won’t give up! There was a reason she chose me, there was a reason she wanted me to take over caring for her! I will NEVER give up not until my final breath of life has left my body. I promise...I promise to try my best for you, La-” _

“I promised your mother that I would protect you and raise you as my own. I promised her that I wouldn’t let anything happen to you and I intend on keeping that promise. There is nothing in this world that I love more than my children and I would gladly lay down my life for any of you. I know that I haven’t been the best, I have done things that I am not proud of, like leaving you three to fend for yourselves but I feel like you all have grown so much from it. That you are capable of doing anything you put your mind too. So don’t say there is no hope, there is always hope that a new day will come and bring better times.” W.D told her, placing his hand on her shoulder, “We had withering hope, we never believed that we would get out of that place but...when given the chance we took it and escaped. It was a miracle. Who's to say that another one couldn’t happen? If anything, be that hope.”


End file.
